by Carlo Zen
"Agh, send out the reserve unit! Pincer the enemy with the intercepting unit!"
From a simple, bird's-eye view of the shape of things, the charging imperial forces were surrounded by several mages. At a glance, their encirclement and annihilation was only a matter of time. There were almost no gaps to escape through, and the Republican mage units were numerically superior as they closed in.
But to someone actually in that fight, the situation looked totally different.
The enemy ripped right through the surrounding mages. As if laughing at the Republicans' numerical advantage, the imperial mages abruptly overwhelmed them with firepower and mobility. It was like a bad dream.
Then, as if sneering at the Republic's attempt to suppress them, they made a crazy beeline for de Lugo's headquarters.
"It's no good! They're too fast!" someone cried.
They were, indeed, too fast. Before the reserves could get in the air, before the pursuing unit could catch up, they had reached their target.
They had charged all the way over there to eliminate a single person.
But Vianto, at least, had been secretly preparing for this possibility. I'm going to prevent a repeat of what happened on the Rhine front no matter what it takes!
"Hurry and get counter-mage defenses up! A direct hit is coming! Take shelter! HQ personnel, take shelter!"
Ignoring the uproar around them, Vianto started to shove de Lugo into a dugout. But when he sensed there wasn't enough time, he didn't hesitate. He promptly kicked de Lugo in and dove on top of him as a shield. The staffers who piled in immediately after him were lucky. Right as all of them knocked together in the dugout---
"Ngh!"
Someone shouted a warning in a quaking voice, and everyone went prone by conditioned response. The moment they instinctively, almost in a trance, ducked their heads, partially opened their mouths, and covered their ears, their eardrums endured a roaring blast.
And what met their eyes when they looked up was the area HQ used to be, the aftermath of the mages' flyby. In addition to a smattering of antipersonnel explosion formulas, they had attacked with grenades and fifty-kilo bombs.
As those in the dugout looked on, the imperial mages shook off the defending anti--air fire with ease and picked off pursuing Republican mages.
The dogged pursuit continued, yet despite the strenuous efforts of the defending mages, the enemy broke free as the Republican leaders watched from the dugout.
Most of the staffers were stupefied by that brief moment. The enemy attacked and left, and they hadn't been able to do a thing.
So those are imperial mages. Those are the guys who raged across the Rhine front. The shock was so much that the vast majority of the staffers had frozen, but Vianto, one of the few exceptions, began taking stock of the damage.
The headquarters had taken direct hits with mage formulas and was destroyed. In that state, all its equipment had to be ruined. Their only choice was to use the backup command post. I sure am glad we made a backup.
"...Are you all right, General?"
"By the protection of the Holy Mother! A little later and we would have been in trouble! I never thought the day would come I'd be glad to have a subordinate who would kick me without hesitating!"
Most importantly, the general was alive.
Luckily, it should probably be said, de Lugo escaped with only bruises from when he dove, or rather was kicked, into the dugout. No one blamed Vianto for them, though, because he had averted catastrophe.
Still, even if their courage was feigned, they were calm enough to joke about it.
Vianto determined they had dodged the worst-case scenario. He remembered the crisis of defeat, the shock at hearing their headquarters on the Rhine had been blown away. They couldn't let that happen again.
Still, when he noticed de Lugo had his eyes squeezed shut like he was praying, he wasn't surprised---he had been terrified himself.
After all, the Republican Army had nearly been decapitated again. On the Rhine, their response had been delayed because it was new to them, but this time they narrowly escaped making the same mistake.
It was probably due to protection from God. He thought of the future of the fatherland, the pride of the Republic that would be passed on. Their determination to maintain that radiant glory, even if it was just an afterglow, was just barely getting them through this crisis.
"What's the damage?"
"Things are a mess, but we can still manage to call it minimal. Shall we withdraw?"
They could still fight. At least, they could still crush them in the next round.
This was the southern continent---not the Empire's home base but the territory of the Republic and the Commonwealth.
Our odds in a long fight aren't bad. In that case, it's probably best to conserve our troops and go back to wearing down the enemy.
With those thoughts, de Lugo decided to minimize their losses and withdraw.
Yes, this time they lost. He felt that. They got us. But as a strategist, he had already accepted it and put it behind him.
"Ahh, there's nothing we can do about this... We retreat! We retreat and watch for our chance to make a comeback. Notify all units to withdraw. They're absolutely not to chase any farther. We need to reposition ourselves."
If a battle broke out, they wouldn't be able to win anyway, so the answer was to not fight.
They would lure the enemy into a battle of attrition and grind them down. The fact that they had survived was already a turning point.
He and the Republic would not lose. All they had to do was be standing on their two feet at the end of the war. In short, that was what victory was to the Republic.
"Ha-ha-ha! Did you see them, Major? The looks on those numbskulls' faces!"
"Ha-ha-ha! I understand how you feel, but you might want to watch what you say."
In a truly rare occurrence, Major von Degurechaff is in a good mood.
She laughs gleefully from her belly, like a child of her age, as she leads the battalion. When they're feeling good, even the most straitlaced person will crack a smile. Happily, the ability to feel genuinely joyful is the sign of a healthy mind.
"But they couldn't even provide you a proper escort. For how proud of their good taste they are, the escargots are awfully tactless."
"Eh, they're just too slow. That can't be helped."
Of the Imperial Army's officially adopted computation orbs, the Type 97 gets both superior altitude and speed. In fact, it leaves the others in the dust.
Eight thousand is considered the maximum combat altitude for existing orbs, but that's practical for the Type 97. It's such a high-performance orb that if you work extra hard, you can approach twelve.
Naturally, it's the optimal type for the self-preservation-first tactic of hitting and running. With outstanding altitude, speed, and climb rate, the Elinium Type 97, known officially as an assault orb, boasts performance equal to its name.
The Type 95 is a hugely flawed machine, but the Type 97, I can use---even Tanya is compelled to raise her hands to praise Elinium Arms. She appreciates the safety and peace of mind the Type 97 gives so much that it's her trusty main orb.
Although when she's really cornered, I have to ignore my myriad conflicts and tearfully relinquish that pillar of my being, the freedom of my mind. Life is really irreplaceable.
That said, I don't have to face any extreme conflicts like that this time. You don't have to be Tanya to be happy about getting through something without having to make any tough decisions.
"Well, it's no wonder. Trends move fast in the Empire---especially if you're a Republican soldier holed up in the colonies."
So even Tanya is in a jocular mood, though it's not in her character. It's so wonderful to be free of that curse that makes me sing songs praising God or whatever!
"In any case, let's drink to the Elinium Type 97!"
Now and then, Elinium Arms does a decent job.
"Here, here. Thanks to this thing, that d
uck hunt was a hell of a lot easier."
If you focus on the outline, it looks like my battalion had a tough fight. We can even boast that we gave the enemy a good run for their money basically on our own.
One battalion---augmented, yes, but still one battalion---punched through the encirclement trapping friendly forces!
With the enemy reinforcements at our mercy, we lured in the main forces and stopped them in their tracks!
Then we turned back to attack and even did an anti-surface strike!
If you add some rhetorical flourishes to our running around trying to escape and achieving zero actual war gains, that is what you get. Someone from the Imperial Japanese Army might have said something like, "My spirited unit delivered a bold blow to the enemy's main forces unscathed as was our mission, and now we're pulling back."
I figured it would be bad to only avoid the enemy, so we did that anti-surface strike at the end in order to have some action to point to---perfect.
Well, there were some newbie amateurs who seemed to think they were mages because they flew now and then, so I was able to rack up some points. Honestly, though, I'm not even sure if I should add them to my score.
It's tricky because if you count little chicks only capable of flying, people think worse of you. The way the Empire assesses kills is quite strict, so even if you don't mean to pad your count, it's better to avoid anything that could look like you might be.
Even if I hunted these guys by the dozens, talking big about that when they don't even compare to the enemies we faced on the Rhine will only make my colleagues ridicule me. I can't stand it when they say stuff like, You want to brag about your hunting numbers that bad?
If I count them, I'm sure people will be talking about my back. How desperate for kills can you get? But then Tanya has an idea.
"We'll have to mark down that this was a turkey shoot."
"Yeah, you're right. We can't make misleading reports."
That's right. Didn't they say the same thing in World War II? That a score against the Russkies on the eastern front was totally different from a score against the American or British on the western front.
"This enemy sure is persistent, though. It seems they're still in pursuit."
I don't want to mess up my record, she thinks, but when she turns around to look, the enemies seem raring to go. She thinks for a minute, but who knows what these creeps will do if she lets them follow her home. What a pain.
What's more, it seems like the units coming after us know what they're doing.
It's also aggravating that we can't shake them off even though we're nearing maximum acceleration. I would propose a law against stalkers, but such regulation wouldn't apply on a battlefield anyhow, so I guess you just have to save yourself.
"All right, let's play with them. Gentlemen, a tsurinobuse. Entertain our guests!"
I want to ambush these creeps so we can get away. We're already in pseudo-Shimazu mode, so it's not a bad idea to take a page from their book here.
They're the ones who are pursuing us. I would much prefer the civilized method of having a peaceful conversation, Tanya grumbles in her head. Once the enemy charges at you, you're left with no other option but to slaughter them, am I right?
"""Yaaargh! Let's give them an avalanche of cuddles!"""
And her subordinates' response to her order is just as lively as she expected.
The troops are thirsty for battle, which is great. That means she won't have any trouble getting volunteers to play the terribly difficult yet fun role of the bait: numbskull imperial soldiers fleeing in a rout. Well, it just means they're the nasty type who like teasing puppies.
"Fairy 01 to 02 and 05. You guys are the bait. Position yourselves in the rear. When those clowns attack, pretend to collapse into disarray and flee."
First, she has two companies pretend to be the rear guard. The point is to get the enemy's attention. An enemy that is raring to fight is often like an enraged bull charging at a red cape. Her subordinates aren't red, but I've heard a bull will charge at anything waved in front of them.
So to borrow from that example, they'll pretend they can't stand up to the enemy's attack and beat a disorderly retreat. She'll have two companies be the waving cape and get chased while the other units pretend to flee before the enemy and get some distance.
Feigning that they've lost the will to fight, they'll scatter to either side. Then all they have to do is wait at the optimal location and lure in those numbskulls who only know how to charge.
"The rest of you split up. After luring the enemy into airspace D-3, we're going to attack from three sides."
The moment the two bait companies lead the enemy into D-3, the rest of the units, who were supposedly fleeing in chaos, will come back around and launch an attack. Then they'll all form a cone shape and cross their lines of fire, taking care not to hit one another.
The moment that formation comes together, the enemy will be like a rat in a trap.
"Okay, gentlemen. Time to give these goobs some learning!"
Tanya crows that they'll teach them that being surrounded is just as terrible in the sky as it is on the ground. Sadly, whether or not they'll be able to use what they learn is a matter for another dimension.
And when the imperial mages fire an improbable amount of formulas into that narrow airspace, the Republicans who so enthusiastically pursued them expire and fall one after the other. You don't have to be Tanya to recognize this as a morale-boosting, extremely smooth victory.
Plus, Major Tanya von Degurechaff gets to pad her score, and it doesn't even take that much effort. It's a wonderful job that results in easy, dramatic gains.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha! I can't stop laughing!"
Which is why, in a rare occurrence, she is able to be so cheerful she even cackles.
She nearly says, It would be great if it could stay this easy from now on, but she freezes when she realizes the implication of her words.
Yes, the words from now on.
...From now on?
This is what it means to be so happy you wrap back around to sad. Her thoughts stop for a moment, and then a terrifying premonition of the future sends chills down her spine. After regaining her composure, Tanya objectively recalls the situation she's in. Then after thinking a moment, she shakes her head with an openly bitter expression on her face.
Certainly, we're winning easily at present. Even just now they've downed Republican mages like it was a turkey shoot. But war isn't usually like this.
Having it this easy will ruin you. Taking out enemy rabble certainly makes for a straightforward victory, but it would be a mistake to expect all battles to be like this.
Even before that, if we have such an advantage, shouldn't we be taking action to end the war?
"...Hmm?"
Tanya suddenly wonders why they are still fighting and groans unconsciously. Without even noticing First Lieutenant Weiss's questioning look, she sinks deep into thought as the unit returns to base. After mulling things over for a while, she is forced to acknowledge a shocking reality.
When they land back at their desert base, she drops off her gear and dismisses the troops. Sipping a cup of cold water from the tank with an absentminded expression, she looks out at the endless train of imperial military vehicles coming and going across the desert.
Supplies from the home country and transport trucks. All those things fight a desperate battle against the sand to assist in their victory. She isn't sure who came up with the idea, but they've wisely used camels instead of horses to carry some of the cargo, which probably increases efficiency.
So their hard work is paying off. For now, things are fine.
Their only enemies are the Republican remnants, who are hardly a formidable threat, and the Commonwealth's expeditionary forces. Regardless of numbers, the Imperial Army has them beat in terms of training, so any fight is a guaranteed turkey shoot.
Conversely, though, we're wasting our vehicles on this pathetic enemy and puttin
g serious strain on our supply lines.
...Certainly, in terms of General von Zettour's idea of a purely political deployment to put pressure on the Republic and expand our influence on the Kingdom of Ildoa, a southern continent expeditionary force is one answer.
But that... The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't get them out, and she sighs.
Both Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf's plan to wipe out the Republican Army remnants and Lieutenant General von Zettour's political plan are choices that assume the number of major players in the war doesn't rise. They have made an expeditionary force a reality using every means possible despite the trying situation in the rear and the limited forces they could muster.
Tanya is compelled to worry. Considering the financial situation, perhaps this plan takes us too far out of our way on thin ice.
There should have been any number of ways to go. The High Seas Fleet could have taken a make-or-break attitude toward taking command of the sea from the Commonwealth, even if both navies ended up destroyed. They could have established a puppet government in the Republic and made peace.
But as far as Tanya can tell, the imperial fleet is resorting to the fleet-in-being strategy of avoiding military risks and conserving its strength. While she can't deny that strategy has its logic, it's definitely not one that will defeat their enemies.
Which is why she has ended up deployed to the inessential Republican colonies on the southern continent to pursue and destroy the remnants of the Republican Army. Even discounting the diplomatic thoughtfulness vis-à-vis the Kingdom of Ildoa, it's still putting the cart before the horse.
The Empire might as well be idly radiating its superior fighting capabilities. In these separate small-scale battles, the imperial generals won't lose. They're dominating on the tactical level. The General Staff is successfully managing mobility and deployment on the operational level, whether maneuver warfare or breaking through encirclements, as well as supply issues.
Indeed, from a military standpoint, putting military and political pressure on the Republic remnants and the Commonwealth via the situation on the southern continent and planning to cooperate with Ildoa is not a grave error.
